by Kitty Neale
‘And why should I believe anything you say?’ Billy sneered as he moseyed towards her.
‘You don’t have to believe her, but you’d better believe me,’ a male voice said, stepping from the shadows.
‘And me,’ said another.
Maude’s brother and his grown-up son stood at each side of her, one brandishing a wooden club, the other a knife, though both were muscular enough to intimidate anyone by size alone.
Billy gave a sharp intake of breath and turned to run.
‘And stay away from Helen, or else!’ Maude shouted after him as he disappeared into the blackness of the alley.
‘Thanks, boys,’ said Maude, smiling at her family.
‘No problem. Shame we didn’t get to knock him out, though,’ her brother laughed.
‘It still did the trick, the little squirt soon scarpered,’ Maude answered.
‘Give us a shout if you’ve got any other scumbags who need sorting. Always a pleasure to help out my little sis.’
‘I will, Ed. And thanks for all popping round yesterday, it was smashing to have so many of us together again. Reminded me of the good old days.’
‘Yeah, it was good, and next time we’re round these parts, you can come to us. It’ll do you good, remind you of where you come from. I’ll never get the way you can settle down like you have. We all miss you, Maude. It ain’t the same on the road without you.’
‘Oh, get off with you, you soft sod. Now give us a kiss and bugger off. I know the funfair is off to new grounds tonight so I won’t keep you, but I’ll see you next time you travel this way. And give my love to that lovely wife of yours. Tell her from me that she deserves a bloody medal for putting up with you!’
Maude went back through Helen’s gate and gave the girl a big smile. She didn’t see much of some of her family as they travelled the country, but luckily her brother had been in the area. ‘I told you there was nothing to worry about,’ she said to Helen. ‘We were raised to look after our own and we never let each other down. I’ve other family members I can call on too, so you won’t have to worry about Billy Myers any more.’
Chapter 17
Helen was dashing home from work; she was a little bit late and the neighbour who kept an eye on her parents would be waiting to leave. She was also keen to get a letter written to Glenda. With all that had been going on since Betty’s funeral, she still hadn’t told Glenda that Harry had agreed to let her take Johnnie to see Ted and Elsie.
She debated with herself whether to tell Glenda about Harry seeing Betty Howard, Betty’s pregnancy, and then her death. She finally decided that she would. She had never kept secrets from Glenda before and didn’t want to start now. The only thing she didn’t want to share was the whole Billy Myers incident; he was Frank’s brother and it might cause all sorts of problems if it came to light, so least said soonest mended, now that Maude had sorted Billy out.
But best of all, now that Harry knew she would be having Johnnie, she didn’t have to worry so much when she went off to meet Glenda in two weeks’ time. Helen was really looking forward to the trip to Bromley again; she couldn’t wait to see Polly, who from what Glenda had written sounded absolutely adorable. She wondered what Johnnie would make of his little half-sister.
As she ran around the corner she careered into someone and a croaky voice slurred, ‘Whoa, watch it.’
Helen’s stomach flipped. It was Harry, but he looked awful: he was unshaven and, as he swayed on his feet, she realised he was drunk. ‘S–sorry,’ she stuttered nervously.
She needn’t have worried. Harry’s eyes looked unfocused and without saying another word he stumbled past her. Helen frowned, wondering if Maude knew that Harry looked as though he was falling apart, and obviously wasn’t at work. Had he lost his job? Maybe she ought to tell Maude. After all, Maude had been quick to help her with Billy Myers and if anyone could sort out Harry, it was his mother. She continued home, made lunch for her parents and, as soon as they took an afternoon nap, she hurried to see Maude.
That evening, Joyce Myers pulled the letter and small photograph from her apron pocket again. For the umpteenth time she peered at the baby in Glenda’s arms, wishing it was a larger picture as she could only just make out Polly’s face. Polly! Her first grandchild. She would have loved to show it around, to tell her friends and neighbours that she was now a grandmother, but knew she daren’t risk it. If it got back to Harry he’d be round like a shot, demanding she tell him where he could find Frank and Glenda. Though she’d put on a brave front when Harry turned up soon after they had done a runner, she’d been shaking inside. The man was a thug; look what had happened to Betty Howard when she made the mistake of getting mixed up with him.
It saddened Joyce that she couldn’t hold her grandchild, and she missed Frank, but there was no way she wanted anything to do with Glenda. She was still married to Harry, and Joyce wanted nothing to do with the Jenkins family ever again. As she stared at the photograph, her stomach rumbled, a pain shooting through her, and she groaned. Her stomach was playing up again as it had done for years; hurriedly she threw the letter down on the table and made a dash for the outside bathroom, only just making it in time.
Billy was sitting at the kitchen table. He had read his aunt’s letter and studied the photograph, more interested in looking at Glenda than at the baby in her arms. He could tell she was still a stunner. He sighed heavily, knowing Glenda was now out of his reach. He was still smarting after his run-in with Maude Jenkins, but he was no fool and knew that if he wanted to stay in one piece, he’d better keep his mouth shut. It also meant that Helen was a no-hoper too; his chance of having a woman on hand whenever he fancied a shag was well and truly gone.
Still, there were other women out there, decent ones too, and there was no way he was going to pay for sex. Maybe it was time he started looking for a wife. He’d go to the local dance hall on Friday night to check out the talent.
As he considered this, Billy’s mother came in through the back door into the kitchen, paling when she saw that he had arrived home from work. He sat up straight, flourishing the photograph of Glenda and the baby.
‘So,’ Billy said as he held it up, ‘Frank’s a father now, is he? I suppose that makes me an uncle.’
Joyce looked panicked. ‘Billy, son, please, you’ve got to keep it to yourself. If Harry finds out, well, what he’d do to both Frank and Glenda doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘It’s all right, Mum. Calm down. I’m not about to tell Harry about this. I didn’t have a lot of time for Betty Howard, but after what Harry did to her I wouldn’t give him the time of day.’
Joyce slumped onto a chair with relief, unaware that, in truth, her son was keeping his mouth shut because he feared retribution from Maude Jenkins and her widespread family if he didn’t.
That evening Maude paced up and down, waiting for her husband to come home. She wanted to sort Harry out, but didn’t want to take Johnnie with her. From what Helen had told her about her son, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold her temper, and it would only upset little Johnnie if he heard her shouting. Maude smiled wryly. She hadn’t worried about her sons hearing, or feeling, the brunt of her temper but she was softer with Johnnie, even though he ran her ragged at times.
‘About bloody time,’ she snapped when Bob walked in.
Bob looked confused. ‘I’m not late. I came home straight from work.’
‘Yeah, well, your dinner is in the oven and you can keep an eye on Johnnie. I’m off out.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to see Harry. He’s turning into a drunk and I’m going to sort him out once and for all. Apparently he’s not been in work either. He’s got to pull himself together.’
Bob said nothing and Maude could guess why. His attitude spoke a thousand words. He was ashamed of Harry, ashamed of what he’d forced Betty Howard to do, and in all honesty she felt the same way too. Nevertheless, Harry was still their son and she wasn’t about to let
him end up in the gutter.
It didn’t take her long to reach Harry’s house. She knocked on the door and was relieved when he opened it straightaway. He looked dreadful, his skin sallow and grimy and his clothes unwashed, but at least he appeared sober. ‘Mum, I was just going out.’
‘Where were you going? To buy more whisky?’
‘What’s it to do with you?’ he asked belligerently.
‘Let me in and I’ll tell you,’ she said, pushing past him. She was appalled at what she saw. ‘Harry, this place looks like a pigsty!’
He shrugged and flopped onto a lumpy-looking fireside chair. ‘It suits me.’
‘It’s not fit for animals to live in, and it’s no place for Johnnie.’
‘Johnnie? What are you on about? He lives with you.’
‘Not for much longer. He’s your son, Harry, and your responsibility.’
‘Mum, I can’t look after him.’
‘Now you listen to me. I’m not getting any younger and after raising you and your brothers I’m not prepared to get stuck with raising another child. I’ve done my bit, helped you out, but now it’s time for you to look after Johnnie.’
‘But I can’t. I’m at work all day.’
‘Are you, son? That’s not what I’ve heard.’
Harry looked sheepish. ‘Yeah, well, I might have lost my job, but I’ll get another one.’
‘Harry, listen to me. You’ve got two choices. You can learn from your mistakes and let them make you a better man, someone for Johnnie to look up to and be proud of. Or you can wallow in self-pity and alcohol and see your son taken into care.’
‘Mum, you wouldn’t!’
‘I will unless there’s some changes,’ Maude firmly told him, though in truth she had just said that to shake Harry up.
‘What sort of changes?’
‘Well, son, to start with I want you to stop drinking and find yourself another job. Once you’ve done that, I’ll continue to look after Johnnie during the day, but you can have him after work and every weekend.’
‘But … but that means I’ll be stuck in every night.’
‘Like I am, you mean! Bloody hell, you’re a selfish bugger. Johnnie is your responsibility, your son, but it’s me and your dad who are tied down with looking after him. It ain’t right, Harry, and I’ve had just about enough of it.’
Harry ran both hands over his face and was quiet for a while, but then he looked up at her and said, ‘Mum, you’re right. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity and I’ve been selfish. I haven’t given a thought to you or Dad. I’ve just taken it for granted that you’re happy to take care of Johnnie.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s time for you to pull your socks up and make a fresh start. By the weekend I want to hear that you’ve found work, and that this house is clean enough for Johnnie to stay in.’ She wasn’t prepared to back down, not now that Harry had seen the error of his ways. She knew all he had needed was a bloody good talking-to. He might well be a grown man, she thought, but he respected his mother and mostly heeded what she said.
‘Mum, I’m sure I can find a job by then, but I’m not sure I can get this place cleaned up that quickly,’ he said, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. ‘I’m not very good at doing housework – can you give me a bit more time?’
Maude was tempted to give him a hand, but feared if she gave him an inch he’d take a yard. ‘No, you’re going to look after your son this weekend and this place had better be sparkling clean when I bring him round.’
Harry gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘All right, Mum, and thanks. You’re right, I need to sort myself out but it took you to make me see that. Things are going to be different from now on.’
‘Good, I’m glad to hear it. I’d best get back to see to Johnnie, and I’ll leave you to start cleaning up this mess. While you’re at it, clean yourself up too, ready to go out tomorrow to find a job.’
Harry said he would and Maude left a lot happier than when she’d arrived. She felt that giving Harry a talking-to had done the trick and that he really would make a fresh start.
When the day came to see Glenda, Helen knocked excitedly on Maude’s door. The last two weeks had dragged by and she was desperate to see her best friend, though after the episode with Billy Myers she was glad of the lack of any traumatic events in her life. Maude answered the door, but she didn’t have Johnnie in his pram ready to go as expected.
‘You’d better come in, love,’ Maude said and beckoned. ‘I need to have a word.’
Helen’s heart dropped. This didn’t sound good.
‘Go through and take a seat,’ Maude instructed.
Helen did as she was told and waited for Maude to speak again, but the look on Maude’s face told her that this was not going to be good news.
‘I know you’re off to see Glenda today, but I think this will have to be the last time.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Listen, there’s good reason. It’s still all right for Johnnie to see Ted and Elsie because Harry knows about that, but Johnnie is talking now. Harry has pulled himself together and sees the boy regularly. What if he says something to his dad about going on a train?’
‘But it’s only baby talk and surely we can explain it away, say he’s talking about a toy or something,’ Helen said.
‘Harry isn’t stupid, and I think you’re clutching at straws there. Do you really want to risk him finding out that you’ve been taking Johnnie to see Glenda?’
‘No, of course not, but it will break Glenda’s heart if she can’t see Johnnie.’
‘You’ll have to tell her that it just isn’t safe now that Johnnie can talk. Not only that, I’ve never liked going behind my son’s back and for who, eh? For Glenda, that’s who. Let’s face it, she’s the only one who benefits from this and she wasn’t thinking about Johnnie when she ran off with that Frank.’
‘She felt she didn’t have any choice, Mrs Jenkins.’
Maude’s expression softened. ‘Yeah, well, that’s as may be, and I’ve no doubt that seeing Johnnie means a lot to Glenda, but it’s got to stop. I’m sorry, Helen, you’ll have to tell her: no more visits after this. I should never have allowed it in the first place. Now I’ll put Johnnie in his pushchair and you can go, but don’t be late back.’
Helen slowly nodded her head and stood up to leave. She could see it would be useless to try and argue with Maude, but she dreaded the thought of having to tell Glenda the bad news. She seemed so happy in her letters and looked forward so much to seeing Johnnie, but now Helen knew that her friend’s heart was going to be broken all over again.
Glenda scanned the seats for Helen as the train pulled into Bromley station. It had been months since she had last seen Johnnie and her arms were aching to hold him again. A familiar figure cheerily waved at her from the train. Glenda could see little Johnnie balanced on Helen’s lap, his hands flapping excitedly.
She ran to help her friend disembark the train as it appeared Helen was struggling with holding Johnnie in one arm and carrying his pushchair in the other hand.
‘Helen, I’m so pleased to see you,’ said Glenda as she lifted Polly from her pram, ‘and this is Polly. Let’s swap.’
Helen passed Johnnie over and, after admiring Polly, put her back into her pram to push her to the park. Glenda was surprised at how heavy Johnnie was as he wriggled in her arms to get down. ‘He’s grown so much,’ Glenda gushed, ‘and look at him, walking now. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed – his first steps, his first words. Oh, Hel, it simply breaks my heart.’
‘Sit down, Glenda,’ said Helen, gesturing to a park bench, ‘there’s something I need to tell you.’
Glenda could tell from the expression on Helen’s face that this wasn’t going to be good news. It flashed through her mind that her mother or father were ill, but nothing could have prepared her for what Maude said.
‘But she can’t do that,’ Glenda cried after Helen had finished speaking. ‘I’m his mother! I have every r
ight to see my son.’
‘I know you do, Glenda, but, the way Maude sees it, you gave up those rights when you left. I tried, I really did, but you know how stubborn she is when she’s made her mind up. The problem is, with Johnnie talking now, I can’t risk coming to meet you behind Maude’s back. He’s only got to say something about the “choo-choos”, or, even worse, he could mention you or Polly, and that’ll be it, game over.’
Glenda watched Johnnie toddling on the grass, his little face beaming. She couldn’t imagine never seeing him again and for a fleeting moment she thought about just scooping him up and running away, but she knew it was impossible. Harry would go mental, and what he might do to Helen didn’t bear thinking about. She’d been stunned when she’d read Helen’s letter, shocked to the core to learn that Harry had been seeing Betty Howard, and what had followed, and that he was now being blamed for her death. It showed just what he was capable of. If she took Johnnie, he was sure to resume his search for them.
Glenda picked Johnnie up and hugged him to her. After what Harry had done, forcing Betty Howard to abort a baby which resulted in her death, he wasn’t fit to be a father and she was determined that one day she would get her son away from the man who still had the ability to strike fear into her heart.
Part 2, 1967
Chapter 18
December 1967
‘Get a move on, Polly,’ Frank Myers shouted up the stairs in the hall, ‘we don’t want to miss our train!’ He walked back to the family kitchen, where Glenda was cutting bacon sandwiches in half.
She handed him one and he took a bite before rolling his eyes. ‘Teenage girls!’ he said. ‘It’s not like Polly wears all that gunk and stuff around her eyes like some of them do, so how come she spends so bloody long in the bathroom?’
‘Because that’s what young women do,’ Glenda said, laughing. ‘Now calm down before you give yourself a heart attack. We’ve got plenty of time. The train doesn’t leave for ages.’
